Experimenting for the Sake of Crime

Chapter 1

It wasn't long past midday, but Sherlock Holmes and his faithful companion, John Watson, were already working.

For days, Sherlock had been complaining nonstop about the lack of work, but he would not accept any case, as they were all "boring". Mrs Hudson and John were both completely exasperated. The consulting detective had spent that time siting, most accurately curled up, on his armchair, occasionally shooting at the yellow smiley face on the wall. From time to time, he would stand up and look frantically for the cigarettes that John had carefully hidden. Finally, under Mrs Hudson's threat of kicking them out, John had gotten Sherlock to accept some pathetic little case.

The man was walking up and down the room, not even pretending to listen to the weeping woman talking in front of him. When his phone rang, he picked it up with a "Holmes", under John's disapproving stare.

"What in the seven hells are you up to now?" said an angry male voice on the other side of the line.

"Lestrade" greeted Sherlock "What is it?"

"'What is it', you say?" said the inspector "I have received several phone calls from Baker Street residents that claim having heard several gunshots and screams. Usually I wouldn't mind but some of the reports arrived during a visit of the Chief Superintendent, and you know he isn't quite fond of you. So just tell me that everything is okay and business will be done –" Lestrade's voice was cut off as the phone hit the floor.

"John" called Sherlock, storming out of the room. John stared blankly for a few seconds, apologised to the crying woman and hurried up after his friend. He barely managed to get into the cab with him, as he was already closing the door, clearly not caring if John was following him or not.

"Sherlock" said John, but the man either wasn't listening or pretended he wasn't. "Sherlock" he tried again with the same result. "For god's sake, Sherlock Holmes, what the bloody hell is going on?" he shouted at last.

The detective has put his hands together under his chin, as he usually did when he was thinking. He turned around to face John and something shone in his eyes... Something that looked suspiciously like a sparkle of fear.

"Are you crying?" asked John, clearly more confused than he was before.

"Don't be ridiculous" spat Sherlock, but his eyes were, indeed, quite redder than they should.

When they arrived at Baker Street, the whole place had been cut off by the police. Inspector Lestrade was walking into a building with a big 221B sign on the door.

"Lestrade!" called Sherlock. The grey-haired man turned around, a look of alarm on his face. "What is it? What's happened?"

"I don't know yet. I just got here. Did I do well in cutting off the traffic?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine" mumbled Sherlock, running upstairs without listening. Donovan stepped in front of him next to the flat's door. "Get off the way" he grumbled, and tried to pull her away, but she didn't move.

"Listen, freak" she said "there's something you've got to know before you walk in there"

"What is it? Just tell me!" he grabbed her shoulders and shook her a bit.

"It's... well... there was a breaking and..."

"Oh, for god's sake" Sherlock cussed "Stop stating the obvious" He managed to pull her away, but he was retained by a most unwelcome Anderson.

"Sit down and listen" he said, but Sherlock didn't move. Anderson sighed and crossed his arms "This wasn't quite the ordinary breaking. They have made a complete mess, yet nothing seems to be taken..."

"Shut up a moment" Sherlock interrupted him "Where's Mrs Hudson?" Anderson and Donovan exchanged looks, and an idea popped up in Sherlock's mind, but he shook it off. It was impossible.

"She got scared" Donovan said "Anyone would've. She tried to hide in your bathroom, yet they found her anyway"

The last words were a blur in Sherlock's ears. He was already running through the flat. He pushed away several officers, or whatever they were, and reached the bathroom. He stood there completely frozen as he felt the floor collapsing under his feet.

There laid Mrs Hudson, with a single bullet hole piercing through her forehead.